


Dirty Air

by anexistence



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Cigarettes, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Romance, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-07
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 14:32:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9239138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anexistence/pseuds/anexistence
Summary: James Potter never needed much in his life; just his best friends, cigarettes and the girl he loved.





	1. 0.0

The slow killers, Sirius called them. Harmless, yet dangerous—quite like ladies, he'd say. They can't harm you if you don't help them on the way, just like no bird can do any damage unless you hand her your heart on a silver platter. Sirius always loved metaphors.

Thin, white sticks – slow killers.

It was Sirius who nicked the first pack of cigarettes when they were only 15. It was Sirius who then gave each of them one and brought out an old lighter with a smirk on his face. It was Sirius whose cigarette was lit first. It was Sirius who coughed loudly after properly inhaling the smoke for the very first time. But it was James who brought a pack of cigarettes back to Hogwarts afterwards. It was James who strutted around the hallways, a hand in his pocket playing with a blue lighter. It was James who always had cigarettes, whenever Sirius asked him, and it was James who smoked much more.

He smoked more, he smoked better; he was the one who ultimately made smoking look healthy to anyone who watched him. It was the image of James Potter holding a cigarette, exhaling the smoke slowly that girls though of when someone mentioned smoking.

James without a cigarette didn't look quite like James at all, not after their fifth year at Hogwarts.

It was James who was addicted to the white sticks of death; the slow killers, fags, cigs, cigarettes, tobacco in general.

There were times when he was very keen on denying it, because James Potter didn't actually need anyone or anything and he was intent on proving it to everyone. Ever since he was a little boy he craved independence and recognition, which he often got. James was brave and proud, never afraid to speak his mind. And James didn't need anyone at all, except for his best friends and a cigarette.

 _She hated them now_. She despised them as much as she used to despise him. But it amused him, inexplicably so, when he would remember it. True enough, she was once far from even talking to him. Once, not so long ago, she was far more happier yelling at him, which she still loved to do.

Often she would ask him to quit, but he would chuckle, for they both knew that he wouldn't quit. He couldn't quit was a more accurate explanation. He could cut back and he could try to stop, but he would eventually slip up and disappoint her much more than if he just refused to quit when she asked.

And they were at war, and the cigarettes calmed his nerves.

Lily blamed Sirius for introducing James to the silly vice; James was silently thankful for it.

James Potter never needed much in his life; just his best friends, cigarettes and the girl he loved. If there was a chance they all might die tomorrow then a cigarette more or less would never make a difference.


	2. 0.1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> James Potter makes a bad habit out of smoking, gets a sore throat. Lily plans a surprise party. Sirius has good hair.

It was March. James could tell that it was March based on three simple observations.

The snow had finally completely melted the week before, yet there was still frost on the grass in the early mornings. He knew this because the best Quidditch practice was before 9 o’clock. Sirius had begun acting suspiciously around him, proving that he was once again attempting to throw a surprise birthday party for James. And James didn’t have to wear a coat when he went outside anymore.

Could he have used a coat? Yes. Did he catch a cold around March 8th? Yes. Was he going to wear a winter coat in March? No.

It was March and James had scheduled an early morning Quidditch practice. He also scheduled to have a smoke just before. It did not require an actual partner, it just required a time and a place. James marked both in his makeshift calendar. Truly, it was only a bunch of parchments, which had messily written out dates, magically glued together.

_March 11 th, 8:30 in the morning, Quidditch pitch. _

He threw the bud towards the frozen ground and stepped on it before walking into the locker room. James coughed, the room was stuffy but the rest of his teammates were not scheduled to arrive in another ten minutes so he left the door open. They would be mad at him. The locker room would be freezing by 8:50, but at least they would not choke on the stale stench of sweat that was left behind.

At precisely 8:51 James was dressed and levitating the Quidditch equipment towards the centre of the locker room. At 8:52 Marcus Stebbins walked into the room.

“Oi, do you want us to freeze to death here?” James let the trunk fall to the ground with a sound clunk.

“It’ll wake you right up,” the captain replied with a smirk.

“It’ll freeze my balls of that’s what it’ll do.” The Keeper complained. “Bloody insane, you are.”

“Stop complaining,” James grumbled, the two Chasers walked in at this precise moment, “and get dressed.”

“James, mate it’s—“

“Freezing, I know. Better than smelling like Slytherin sweat.” He grabbed his broomstick. “Get dressed, get ready, get outside. You have punishment laps to fly because you were late.”

A set of groans spread around the locker room just as the rest of the team walked in.

“I was on time.” Stebbins quipped.

James shook his head and swung the Nimbus over his shoulders. “Two minutes late, mate.”

“Bollocks.”

“I know.”

When the practice was over James had an impromptu meeting. A cigarette was what he needed to warm his lungs up after the cold air bit harshly through them.

* * *

 

Sirius Black was throwing a party. This news was not new, nor was it unexpected.

Lily Evans was throwing a party. This, however, was a novelty.

The two could be found huddled in the corner of the Gryffindor common room that morning. One had a book opened and was scribbling down a neat essay due in two days. The other had a crumpled piece of paper and was vigorously compiling the list of things needed.

“I don’t know what to get him, Sirius.” The red haired girl whinged.

“He’d love a box of Bertie Bott’s vomit only beans from you, idiot.” Her friend replied frowning at a piece of parchment. “This won’t do.”

She leaned over to look at his messy notes. “What is it?”

“We can’t have this much Butterbeer for the party.” He tucked a loose strand of his hair away only for it to come falling back down and obstructing his eyesight.

“Is it too much?”

Sirius scoffed. “Too much? No. It’s not enough.” He tried tucking away the loose strand once again.

Lily rolled her eyes. “Perhaps some students do not have a wish to get obliterated via a mild alcoholic drink.”

“That’s why we need mead and Firewhiskey, doll face.” The boy grinned and then scratched out a few things on the parchment. “That’s better.” He added a few more items to his list, and attempted to put away that loose strand of hair yet again.

“I can’t believe what I got involved with.” The girl next to him sighed. “And for Merlin’s sake tie your hair if it’s bothering you that much.”

Sirius scoffed. “I won’t… Also, you ordered James and got the whole bunch. Good deal, Evans.”

“Beginning to doubt that.” She smiled softly, looking over at him just in time to see the frown appear once again. “What is it?”

“You’ll have to go to the Kitchens with Pete, it’s the Lunar cycle…” He paused. “I will have to be with James because I’m big and he can see me, but Pete sometimes runs off. He can do it this time and help you get the food.” He scribbled a few words down. “And then just store it in your room till the afternoon next day. We start early.”

The red head nodded returning her attention to the essay at hand. “Alright. I have to finish this now. And you should put away that planning paper because the Quidditch practice is over and he’ll be coming back any second.”

“No, he won’t.”

“It’s 11 o’clock, he should be.” The girl argued.

“You know he’ll go smoke a cigarette and contemplate life. James gets philosophical like that.”

Lily groaned. “He does. He smokes all the time. It’s horrible.”

Sirius chuckled. “Well, at least he’s been eating mints now so you aren’t kissing an ashtray anymore.”

“And what an improvement that is.” She returned to her essay only slightly bothered by her boyfriend’s bad habits.

* * *

 James Potter did not smoke more than one cigarette after the Quidditch practice. He returned to the common room at a quarter to noon. When his girlfriend asked him where he had been, he shrugged his shoulders and winked.

She concluded that he had been smoking. He was, in fact, drinking tea in the kitchen.

James Potter had a sore throat and the next day he wore a coat as he walked towards the greenhouses with his friends. He even wore a scarf.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I've decided to make this into a multichapter story with quite short chapters that are supposed to give you flashes of scenes in their Hogwarts life with the general motif of James smoking. Most chapters will be happening in a chronological order and will have about 1,000-1,500 words because this gives me a chance to update fairly regularly. Hope you like the concept and the feel, I am trying to make them sound a bit different compared to other things I've written. 
> 
> Reviews are appreciated,  
> Love,  
> Maja


	3. 0.2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sirius rents a new apartment. Marlene hogs the balcony. Lily can't roll a cigarette.

It’s the summer of 1978 and the bunch of them are holed up in a small flat facing the busy London street, just a 10 minute walk from The Leaky Cauldron. Sirius started renting it a month or so ago when he realized it would be cheaper (and cooler) than the Diagon Alley one he had been staying in.

Lily is standing next to the open balcony door, the cooling summer breeze sweeping into the room. Marlene is occupying the only seat on the tiny balcony and staring dreamily up at the gibbous moon on the clear night’s sky. Inside the room, a cloud of smoke moves from the centre towards the balcony door. It rises from the round dining table which had rarely been used for dining since the moment in stepped its thin wooden foot inside of Sirius’ apartment. Instead, it had learned—through many a summer night—not to stain once a glass full of their alcohol of choice inevitably tipped over and the contents spilled across the surface.

The place, in general, was nothing special; Sirius was never the one for glamour. The entrance door, old and squeaky, led into a short hallway. On the opposite side of them stood the door to the only bedroom in the flat in which there was a bed and a trunk that had been transformed into a unique wardrobe. The bed was somewhat of a miracle, really. It was, in fact, a bed that James’ mum had decided to throw away, claiming sleeping on it had been horrible, leaving her back hurting every morning. Sirius decided that he wanted that bed and, despite Euphemia’s strong protests and promises that she herself would buy him a much better bed, he and James dragged it all the way to the small London flat. A bit of Transfiguration was all it needed to become a modern looking piece of furniture

The rest of the space was this and that; a sizeable bathroom at the end of the hallway that opened up to a small kitchen and spacious living area, where the setting of this particular night took place. The dining table that night, much like any other night, acted as a game table with a variety of decks of cards spread out on it. Among them various sized cups and glasses in which they poured wine, alcohol of the evening. On the large leather sofa in the corner Frank and Alice were snuggled up closely flipping through old polaroid photos Frank had taken throughout the year.

“Oi, love” Sirius hollered at Lily, “don’t let that glass go empty!” He nodded towards the delicate glass in her hand.

“I won’t,” the redhead quipped, “I promise.”

He played his card, smacking it loudly against the table, “Ha,” then faced Lily again, “just making sure we’re not wasting the wine and the time.”

“I would never!” She walked across the room, right through the cloud of smoke, and leaned against James’ shoulders. Her boyfriend looked up, showing her his cards, and grinned mischievously. “You’re winning?”

“I’m winning.”

Remus chuckled, looking at the two of them suspiciously. “He’s currently losing.”

Lily hummed, then shrugged her shoulders. “I say he’s winning but what do I know.” The girl grabbed another chair and dragged it across the floor, taking a seat next to James.

“Watch how it’s done, Lily,” the boy whispered before nonchalantly playing a card that left both Remus and Peter in shock.

“I’m proud,” she kissed him, “will you be a sunshine and roll me a cigarette?”

James raised his eyebrows in surprise, “Weren’t you quitting just yesterday morning?”

His girlfriend offered him a simple smirk, reaching up towards his head to run her hand through the thick messy dark hair. “Well, _that_ was yesterday morning, James. And now,” she flicked his nose playfully, “now it’s today evening, and I would like a cigarette.”

It was his turn to play once again, so he took a moment to look at the cards before playing. Then his attention was once again on his girlfriend. “Why don’t you roll yourself one?”

“Because I am bad at it?”

“Hm,” he mused, “that is true. But if you don’t practice you’ll never get better.”

“You’re an awful boyfriend, James Potter,” she slapped him on the arm and gulped down the wine in her glass.

“Take the rolling paper,” he instructed, “and the rest,” he played his card while keeping his eyes on her, “and try it on your own. If it ends up being horrible, I’ll fix it.”

“Fine,” she smirked.

“But you have to really try.” James added, aware of her train of thought.

“Shite.”

“You keep forgetting that I know you better than you can imagine.”

“Psh,” she placed a bit of tobacco in the rolling paper, “you wish.”

“You don’t have enough tobacco, Lil.”

“I have plenty.”

“Not enough.”

“Mind your own business, James.”

“You’re my girlfriend,” he played the last card in his hand. Peter groaned, Sirius cheered, and Remus took a swig of his drink. “My girlfriend, sort of my business.”

“That’s a bit possessive,” Lily said, while adding a bit more tobacco to her cigarette in the making. “even for you.”

“I’m not possessive.”

She did not reply, her concentration fully on the task at hand. Rolling the paper between her fingers turned out to be a much more difficult task than what she had expected.

“Oh, give me that.” The boy next to her intercepted and grabbed her careful work from her hands.

Instead of protesting Lily reached for the bottle of wine on the table, pouring herself another glass. A minute later James stuck a thin white cigarette between her bright red lips and proceeded to light it.

“You owe me,” he said as the fire touched the tip of the cigarette, “seven years of sex.”

She rolled her eyes. “That won’t be a problem.”

“Oh, will you two stop it?” Sirius groaned throwing a crumpled up paper napkin at James and Lily while Remus and Peter snickered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like, r&r (pls?), also if there are weird typos I am tired and must go do uni work but wanted to post this before, so I apologize (and will fix if you point it out)
> 
> xx  
> maja

**Author's Note:**

> An old attempt at something that I now feel motivated to turn into a short multi chapter story.


End file.
